


Not Throwing Away My Shot

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: College AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton is just a scholarship student trying his best to prove himself.<br/>But what happens when Professor Washington takes a special interest in him?<br/>Will the power of John Laurens and Martha Washington be enough to make him slow down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alexander was going to make it through this class, even if he was forced to do so with tissues shoved up his nose. He’d been getting progressively sick for the past two weeks, but being on a scholarship meant that he couldn’t afford to miss lectures. Sitting on his desk were two different notebooks, one in the center where he wrote his notes, and the other to the side where he kept his perpetual ‘things I haven’t done yet’ list, as well as two different water bottles. One filled with orange juice to try and fight whatever it is he’d come down with, the other with water when the acidity made it too harsh to calm down the near constant coughing fits.

When the Professor finally finished his lecture on the difference between expository and argumentative discourse, Hamilton let out a relieved sigh and started to shove his materials into his bag. Chugging down the last of his orange juice and trying to choke down the coughing fit it inspired, the freshman threw his bag over his shoulder and was almost out the door when a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Hamilton, if you don’t mind- a word.”

For a moment he contemplated fleeing, after all, he only had an hour or so between this and his next class and he’d been hoping to catch Laurens before going in. Not to mentioned that there was enough chatter that he could claim to have not heard. But the longer the moment stretched on, the more he realized he’d have to face the man. Turning on heel he walked to where the older man was waiting with his arms crossed.

“Professor Washington, have I done something wrong, Sir?”

If this had come weeks ago, he’d have understood. After all, his argument with Burr over the importance of not playing the middle during a debate might have gotten a little out of hand. He’d walked away with a black eye, though Burr definitely was worse for wear. The other man still alternated between shooting him glares and down right ignoring him when he spoke in class now.

But he’d been quiet this week, if for no other reason than the fact that this illness had him sounding like he was going through a second puberty. Alexander might not have had much in terms of money or stature, but if there was one thing he had in abundance- it was pride.

“Would you be so kind as to inform me why you’ve shown up to three lectures in a row now looking like death?”

Alexander shifted on spot, uncomfortable with the line of questioning. It wasn’t a particularly fair question, either, considering Washington’s policy on absences meant he’d drop a letter grade if he missed more than once without a doctor’s note. As if he had the money to see a doctor.

“Cat got your tongue, son?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sir.”

This time there’s a stress on the last word, the only way he’s willing to show his displeasure with the Professor’s choice on words.

Washington frowned in response, “You’ve been sick for far longer than a cold would usually wear on. You need to be seen if you haven’t already.”

Alexander huffed, “It’s stretching on because I can’t exactly escape the cold. Heater’s broken and they don’t know that they’ll get to it before finals. I’ll be fine, worry about someone else.”

Laurens would tell him to take a breath, to let someone express care for him for once. But life had already taught him that care could only go so far, softening himself at this point would only bring disappointment. When the Professor didn’t say anything immediately, Alexander tightened his grip on his bag before turning to leave.

Only to be stopped by the Professor once more, “Alexander.”

“What”

There was a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t bother to look as the older man brushed past him, “Come.”

It was Professor Washington, one of the few people that both demanded respect and tolerated his mouth, so what choice did he have but to follow. When the man breezed past his office door, Alexander stared at the door, trying to figure out where they were going. 

Out of the building they went, and it wasn’t until they reached the parking lot that Alexander spoke, “Sir?”

The Professor stopped in front of a vehicle, “I have someone I’d like you to meet. If you have the time?”

Alexander weighed his options. He didn’t have the time, not really, he had a class to get to. But it was a class that didn’t take attendance and Laurens notes were always well written and as much as he wanted to see his friend, this seemed like a once in a life time opportunity. Would he still be Alexander Hamilton if he turned down an adventure like this? 

Turning his head to protect the Professor from another coughing bought, Alexander climbed into the truck. The drove in relative silence, the only sound the gurgling of water as the student tried to quell any future coughing by drinking as continuously as possible. When they finally pulled up to the house, Hamilton stared.

It was huge, with columns and a porch with a swing on it. He followed the Professor mutely up the front stairs, quiet awe over who just might own this home, and curiosity of why the Professor thought it so urgent that they meet.

When the Professor knocked, an older woman answers, smiling brightly when she realizes who it is, “George! You’re home early. Are tonight’s lectures cancelled?”

“Martha, dear, “ they exchange a brief hug and Alexander watches in confusion, “I must be going soon actually. Likely going to be a late night, I wouldn’t wait up. However, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Alexander resists the urge to step to the side when George turned to reference him, stepping forward instead to shake the woman’s hand, “Alexander, Ma’am.”

“This is Alexander Hamilton,” George spoke over him, “I’m sure you remember me mentioning him before. He’s in my Speech class. I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind keeping one another company.”

Martha smiled, “Of course, come in dear. Why don’t you come in and sit in the living room while me and George fix some tea.”

The student nodded dumbly, clenching the strap on his bag for comfort as he allowed himself to be moved towards a large living space and sitting down on the large couch. The woman might have said they were going to make tea, but Hamilton wasn’t stupid- he knew when adults were making excuses because they needed to talk.

If he’d been better he’d have watched the door, waited for them to come out and tell him what was going on, but the couch was comfortable and before he realized it-

Hamilton was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

As sleep left him, Hamilton blinked slowly, trying to figure out where he was. 

It was only as he noticed the woman knitting in the chair to the side, that things slowly came back together. Professor Washington had asked to see him after class, had said there was someone he wanted Hamilton to meet... Only to introduce him to his wife.

Martha must have noticed his movements out of the corner of her eyes, though she didn't stop knitting even as she spoke, "Are you awake, dear? If so I can go make a fresh batch of tea."

Alexander was tempted to demand to be told what was going on, but when he opened his mouth no sound came out. The woman must have taken his silence as consent because she set down the scarf she appeared to be making and headed towards the kitchen. Hamilton took the time while she was gone to look around the room, trying to take in all the little details. The pictures on the mantel, one that must have been the Professor when he was younger, standing stoic in his dress uniform, another on what appeared to be his wedding day, embracing a much younger Martha Washington. When he turned his head, he realized that Martha was setting a cup on the coffee table, before returning to her previous seat, openly watching him now.

"Drink up, dear. Dinner is in the oven, it should be ready soon enough."

That was a starling comment, "Ma'am," he croaked out, trying not to flush at the sound of his own voice, "How long...."

Martha smiled, "You've been asleep for quite a bit. George considered waking you up before he left, but I insisted he let you rest."

Unable to speak, Hamilton nodded, still trying to figure out what was happening. He handled the mug with as much care as he could, relishing in the soothing heat as it slid down his throat. Dark eyes continued to regard the woman over the edge of the mug, watching her as she watched him.

It was Martha who broke the silence, "I suppose you're wondering why George brought you here."

Hamilton nodded and she spoke again, "I'm sorry that this conversation will be a bit one sided. I suppose I could fetch a note pad if it comes to it. Shall I?"

This time he shook his head, after all, he had numerous notebooks in his backpack if it came to it.

"Every couple of years George.... extends an offer to his previous students. Have you heard anything of it?" A pause and then, "No. Well, basically George feels it's important to... encourage skills that the college doesn't necessarily teach. Aaron.. I think his last name is Burr, has been trying to win George's favor this year. Considering he's in his last year, he is an attractive prospect for the position. However, George and I have spoken in depth on this subject, and while Burr is lovely and intelligent, George... fears he lacks a certain passion. "

It was probably improper for a Professor's wife to reveal the Professor's less than positive feelings about another student, but Hamilton couldn't help but grin and nod his head in agreement. Burr didn't only lack passion, he lacked spine, never taking a direct stance on any subject, though he debated beautifully on either side of the aisle when he was asked to. 

"You're a freshman, we understand. George would not be offended if you turned him down, but he's impressed by your energy." 

Finally Hamilton pulled out one of his notebooks, turning to a free page to sketch out his question before turning it to the small woman.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize I wasn't being clear. Dear, I need you to understand that it will be a lot of work. You need to consider realistically whether or not this is something you can undertake on top of your school work. George simply couldn't stand it if your grades suffered because of it. But he'd like to extend you to act as.... his right hand man, so to speak. His assistant."

Under the scrutiny of curious eyes, Martha continued, "This isn't something with the school, though if you don't have classes when he's teaching- he might ask that you come in and do an occasional lesson. Mostly he works with former students who seem to have political or activist aspirations, helping to hone them into... fine young people."

Alexander went to write something down, thousands of questions swirling in his head as the timer dinged from the other room. Martha swept to take care of everything and Hamilton continued to scribble down his thoughts. By the time Martha came to fetch him, he'd filled three pages with a collection of reactions and questions, had even begun transferring the most important ones to another page in a much neater version of his familiar scrawl.

Martha took the page with a bemused smile, even as she insisted that he sit and take a plate of casserole, "Hmm. George might need to answer most of these. If you're seriously considering the offer, might I suggest spending the night?"

At Alexander's wide-eyed look, she shook her head, "Now don't you think anything of it, young man. If you do become his assistant? It'll be a preset arrangement. George is fair, but he works hard and expects the same out of those in his tutelage. Late nights aren't uncommon, and he hardly approves of young men driving while exhausted. It isn't safe."

A chance to work with George Washington, to be his assistant, and a place that he could stay? Suddenly all his questions seemed unimportant, he didn't need to know if it was a paid position or what all his duties would be. Here was someone who was impressed by his work ethic, enough so that the Professor trusted that he could be pushed harder. A man he admired, who didn't back down from his beliefs and spoke with both eloquence and passion.

A man who seemingly believed in him against the odds.

Alexander finished eating his casserole, listening intently as Martha spoke of unimportant things, telling him about the Christmas party she was planning and who the neighbors were. He smiled and nodded occasionally, appreciating that she filled the silence for him, with no expectation that he'd respond. Whether this was because of his illness or her natural demeanor didn't matter.

When the dishes had been cleared, Martha took the notebook once more, reading his final question before having him follow her to the hall.

" Don't be silly, dear. You won't be staying on the couch, we have a spare room. You may consider it yours so long as you're in George's service."

It was more than he had any right to expect, she was far too kind, a thought he couldn't help but think as she paused, fingers on the door as he sat on the bed overwhelmed.

"Rest, dear. There will be a time for talk later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was going to be... 2-3 chapters. It may be a few more than that now. Also, slight alteration on the prompt but I just... have a lot of feels about H/C and I wanted more than one night to work with.  
> also I just like the idea of George Washington trying to shape upcoming politicans/activists.  
> also no Lams in this chapter, but don't you fret, that'll be back soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt:  
> College/University AU - Hamilton is ill but keeps going to his lectures anyway, and ends up sleeping/recovering on George and Martha Washington’s couch because the heating in the dorms in broken. Basically loads of hurt/comfort with Martha Washington being awesome. (Bonus for background Hamilton/Laurens)  
> from the Hamiltonprompts tumblr


End file.
